


Rodney's Perspective

by sheafrotherdon



Series: A Farm in Iowa 'Verse [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-25
Updated: 2008-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a matter of some wonder to him, later in life, but Rodney didn't realize he was falling in love with another man until the second movement of a string quartet concert in Iowa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rodney's Perspective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inthe_parlance](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=inthe_parlance).



> Written for inthe_parlance, for the prompt 'a little of Rodney's POV when he realized he was falling for John.'

It was a matter of some wonder to him, later in life, but Rodney didn't realize he was falling in love with another man until the second movement of a string quartet concert in Iowa, an elderly grandmother sitting on his left and John sitting quietly at his right. Everything smelled vaguely of peppermints that evening – the grandmother had unwrapped six or seven of the things, laid them on her lap, sucked them methodically as the air in the auditorium shimmered with the music of space – and suddenly, between a diminuendo and the trembling beauty of a captured quark, Rodney realized John was tall and warm and ridiculously, unspeakably _beautiful_ in his jeans and his work boots and his white shirt and his jacket, and god, god, he wanted to reach out for his hand.

He didn't. Hand reaching – hand _holding_ – was not something you launched upon rural, carpenter, roof-fixing pilots, he decided, but as the unbearably fragile music of photons slid into his blood he could barely _breathe_ for curiosity about the way John's hand would feel, if his fingertips would be callused, if his palm was damp or dry.

The music ended and Rodney gestured helplessly when John asked if he liked it, and his gut did something crippling and strange when John ducked his head and smiled. This was unprecedented, Rodney thought at a hundred miles an hour, staring out through the passenger window of the truck as John drove them back to his farm – this was male and new and a little like food poisoning and a lot like slotting an equation into place, and he was drunk on it, gleeful, giddy, terrified, and when they parked and tumbled out into an Iowa night Rodney couldn't help himself, reached up and kissed him, shivered head to toe at the touch of John's tongue. He wanted to say, _Jesus Christ, I've been falling for you for months now, haven't I?_ and _what the fuck am I doing_?, and _please, please, please, choose me back_ , but he settled for touching the wash of John's naked back, tangling their legs, arching up into the weight of John's body and coming with a broken shout that meant everything, forever, was irrevocably new.

 _Falling, fallen, fell, felled_ , he thought, curved into the loose heat of John's embrace, listening to John's breath smooth itself into gladdened, sated sleep. And he slept too, nothing comprehensible, everything trembling, and somewhere in the night, reached for John's hand.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rodney's Perspective, A Stillness So Right, A Little Outdoor Music [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8015935) by [librarychick_94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarychick_94/pseuds/librarychick_94)




End file.
